“There’s a strong possibility that I won’t be back next term.”

“Don’t quit. You say that Dana and I saved Sarah Woodruff, but that’s not entirely correct. If you hadn’t stood up for her, she would be facing execution. You’re a hero to me and a lot of other people. And I don’t mean just because of Woodruff.”

Moss smiled. “That’s touching, Brad, and I’m not going to make any rash decisions, but I don’t think I could take another term like this.”

Brad laughed. “If that’s what you’re worried about, you’re going to be on this court for a long time. I can’t imagine that there will ever be another term of the United States Supreme Court like this one.”

Brad, Ginny, Dana, and Jake were in a festive mood when they met for dinner at Michelangelo’s, an Italian restaurant a few blocks from the offices of Exposed where Patrick Gorman ran a tab. The bill was being picked up by Gorman to show his appreciation for everyone’s help in breaking a political scandal as big as the Farrington affair. He was already talking about a second Pulitzer, but what made him really giddy was the new advertising revenue from large corporations that used to use his newspaper to collect parakeet droppings.

“I have an important announcement,” Brad said as soon as they’d made their wine selection. “Now this is hush-hush until tomorrow. Justice Moss just told me this in confidence an hour ago. So I need your blood oath that you’ll keep it between us.” Brad looked directly at Dana. “No spilling the beans to Mr. Gorman. Swear?”

Dana forced herself to look solemn and crossed her heart.

“So, give,” Ginny said.

“They’re granting cert in Woodruff, and her read is that the case will probably go back for a new trial.”

Everyone applauded.

“The judge thinks there’s a majority who want to rule that a defendant’s need for exculpatory evidence trumps concerns of national security in a case where the defendant is facing the death penalty. Of course, a lot can happen between now and when the case is decided.”

“I wonder if the DA will try Sarah again,” Ginny said.

“It’ll be a tough case to win with all the doubt that the evidence about the China Sea will cast over the State’s case,” Dana said.

“And there will be all sorts of adverse publicity about the CIA smuggling drugs and Masterson trying to kill Supreme Court justices to hush up what happened,” Jake said. “If I was the defense attorney, I’d argue that people who would kill a judge on our high court would think nothing of killing that guy Finley.”

“An argument I’m sure Mary Garrett is crafting as we speak,” Dana said.

Ginny cleared her throat. “Mr. Miller isn’t the only person with breaking news. I know a thing or two also.”

“Give,” Jake said.

“Tomorrow, Audrey Stewart is going to take her name out of consideration for a spot on the Court for…”

Instead of finishing her sentence, Ginny gestured to her friends.

“Health reasons,” they said in unison, before breaking into laughter.

“How did you guess?” Ginny asked with a cynical smile.

“I can’t believe President Gaylord nominated Stewart in the first place,” Brad said. “There were so many other worthwhile candidates.”

“Yeah, but none of them had Dennis Masterson backing them,” Ginny said. “There were rumors around the office about a late-night visit by Masterson to the White House. I’m guessing a lot of dirty secrets died with our senior partner.”

“Secrets powerful enough to force the president to nominate Audrey Stewart to the Supreme Court?” Jake asked.

Dana cast her lover a look of pure scorn. “Grow up, Mr. Teeny. The guy was the head of the CIA. He probably knew what kind of underwear you buy.”

“Mine are pretty dull, but yours…”

Dana slapped Jake playfully, and everyone laughed just as the waiter arrived with the wine Dana had ordered. Dana didn’t know that much about wine. She’d just ordered the most expensive bottle on the wine list because her friends deserved it and Patrick Gorman could afford it.

Dana raised her glass. “To Sarah Woodruff,” she said when everyone’s glass was full.

“And Felicia Moss,” Brad added.

“Amen,” everyone said.

Part VII.Subpoenas

Chapter Sixty-one

A month and a half after the shootout at the Court, the China Sea was off the front page and Dana Cutler’s life was back to normal. One of the jobs that Dana’s work on the Woodruff investigation had disrupted involved the defense of an investment banker who had been indicted in a white-collar fraud case. Dana had spent the day in the defense attorney’s office briefing him on her investigation and advising him on the witnesses and documents that had to be subpoenaed for trial. The meeting had broken up late, and Dana was so tired that she’d worried about having an accident driving home. A sound bite on the news about the hunt for Thomas Bergstrom woke her up.

An hour after Dana had given Keith Evans the video of Bergstrom murdering Dennis Masterson and his driver, the FBI had raided Bergstrom’s house. They were too late. Bergstrom’s wife and children were there, but Bergstrom had disappeared into the ether. So far, the radio announcer said, the international manhunt had not turned up a single clue to The Swede’s whereabouts.

Bergstrom’s disappearance was one of the few setbacks in the investigation into the violence at the Supreme Court and the mystery surrounding the China Sea. Cheryl Fortier-the woman who had impersonated Harriet Lezak-was talking as fast as she could in hopes of staying off death row. In addition to clearing up the roles of Millard Price and Dennis Masterson in the sordid affair, Fortier had told the FBI that Dave Fletcher, the night watchman, had been killed soon after Oswald and Swanson left the dock, and his body had been dumped at sea.

Jake was sound asleep when Dana tiptoed into their bedroom. She dropped her clothes where she took them off and went into the bathroom to wash up. Dana had stopped thinking about Bergstrom and the China Sea by the time she arrived home. While she flossed, her thoughts turned to her boring day and the stacks of subpoenas with numbers and names and addresses she had helped write. Suddenly mental tumblers clicked into place in the recesses of her brain, and she grew cold.

As soon as she finished in the bathroom, Dana fixed herself a cup of strong coffee. Then she went to her home office and worked out the logical inferences of her brainstorm. Dana booted up her computer and checked her notes from her visit to Portland. The name she wanted was buried in them. Dana checked the time. Washington, D.C., was three hours ahead of Oregon, so there was a chance she could catch the person she needed to talk to before she went to sleep. Dana dialed information and breathed a sigh of relief when the operator told her that LuAnn Cody’s number was listed.

“Ms. Cody, my name is Dana Cutler, and I’m calling from Washington, D.C.,” Dana said as soon as they were connected.

“D.C.?”

Dana could hear the confusion in her voice.

“I’m a reporter, and my editor wanted me to fact-check a story we’re going to run in the paper that involves the Multnomah County District Attorney’s office.”

“I don’t understand. What kind of story? I’m a secretary. Shouldn’t you be talking to one of the attorneys?”

“No. I had a very nice meeting with Monte Pike when I was in Portland a while back. Your name was mentioned, and I wrote it in my notes, but I’ve misplaced them. So I wrote the paragraph from memory, and then I wasn’t certain I got it right. That’s why I’m calling, to make certain that we print what really happened.”

“I still don’t know why you need to talk to me.”

“Right, I’m sorry. I should have explained. Mr. Pike mentioned that you were Max Dietz’s secretary. This detail has to do with the day he disappeared. We want to be accurate when we print something. Like your name. I have it down as L-U-capital A-N-N, no space. Is that right?”